Heaven Scent (31 page)

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Authors: SpursFanatic

Tags: #romance, #love, #drama, #mystery, #historical, #doctor, #mother, #story, #heroine, #historical romance, #boston, #texas ranger, #hero, #heaven, #scent, #1800s, #physician, #womens rights, #midwifery

BOOK: Heaven Scent
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“We’re not going to hurt you,“ Beau
interjected.

“Where has he taken Lady
Worthington?”

“Lady?” she cried, her eyes wide. “He
did not tell me she was a lady.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she
added, “Randall has lost all sense.”

In Rafe’s opinion, Kent never had a
sane mind.

“Where is she?” Rafe demanded, standing
over her, his shoulders hunched.

Wincing, the little girl backed further
into the woman’s skirts.

“I expect he is here on the ship.
Randall is supposed to meet us here before we sail. That is all I
know.”

Taking her by the arm, Rafe handed the
woman over to Patrick. “Go with my brother to the shipping office.
Tell him everything you know. Perhaps, the police will be
lenient.”

“Police?!” She looked up at Patrick,
her eyes wide with fright.

“Damn right,” Patrick muttered, hauling
her away.

Beau ran to the lower deck, while Rafe
rushed to the middle deck, his temper growing with each step he
took.

The scent of roses assailed him as soon
as he stepped into the passenger hall. He breathed a sigh of
relief. Tarin was here, somewhere. Thank God, he had found
her.

All of the cabin doors were open down
either side of the hall. The worn, wooden floors and narrow passage
made stealth-like movement awkward for Rafe, but he managed. He
looked inside each door as he passed, but all of the cabins were
empty. Hunter had said they usually didn’t have many passengers on
this route. The fact should make this rescue quick and
easy.

Suddenly, a rustling sound reached his
ear. Rafe stilled, mid-step. It came again, from the far end of the
hall. Trotting on his toes, he reached the door and peered inside.
Kent had his back to the door as he laid Tarin on top of the bed
blankets. She lay limp, unmoving. Rafe’s heart stopped. Please God,
let her be alive.

Cocking his gun, Rafe held it out in
front of him and pointed it at Kent’s back. “Get away from her, you
sonuvabitch.”

Stiffening, Kent turned around slowly.
A superior grin lit his face while his eyes blazed with anger.
“You’re too late, Rafe.”

Rafe refused to believe it. He gritted
his teeth. “I said, get away from her.”

“If she isn’t dead already, she will be
soon.” Kent’s shoulders were tense, his body poised to
pounce.

A resounding roar shot from Rafe’s
throat as he charged Kent, knocking him into the far wall. They
fell to the floor, Rafe crouched over him.

As he pummeled Kent’s face, all Rafe
could think about was Tarin‘s limp body lying on the
bed.

She couldn’t be
dead.
She couldn’t
.

The blows to Kent’s face got easier as
Rafe’s anger grew, until blood ran thick and his grunts went
silent. Rafe let his unconscious body sprawl on the
floor.

Jumping up, Rafe ran across the room
and dropped down on his knees beside the bed. He grabbed Tarin’s
wrist and felt for her pulse, releasing a sharp cry of relief when
he found her faint heartbeat. Brushing the hair back from her
forehead, he kissed her there.

“I love you, Tarin Worthington,” he
whispered.

“Rafe!”

Beau’s shout from the hall broke the
still silence of the cabin.

“Down here,” Rafe returned, standing to
lift Tarin into his arms.

Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his
shoulder, causing Rafe to stumble and brace himself on the bed.
Another came a second later, lower, causing Rafe to drop a knee on
the bed. A third came instantly, before it clicked in his muddled
head that Kent had stabbed him in the back.

Cowardly bastard.

Whipping around, Rafe stumbled over his
own foot, Kent’s bloody face spinning with the room.

“You’re going to die, Rafe,” Kent said,
the knife in his hand dripping with blood. “And she will live -
with me.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Beau growled, before
he fired two shots.

Kent dropped to the floor at Rafe’s
feet. Glancing up, Rafe squinted as he tried to focus on Beau’s
face. “Thank y - ”

Rafe’s knees buckled. He fell face
first to the floor. “Help Tarin, Beau. It’s too late for
me.”

Chapter 17

 

Tarin didn’t know if it was the
aftereffects of the opium or her continual tears that made her head
feel like cotton. While uncomfortable, it did distract her from the
pain in her wrists and the raw soreness in the corners of her
mouth. It had been several hours since she woke from the opium coma
Dr. Kent and his wife had forced on her. To think they’d had hopes
of kidnapping her for ransom from the Duke of Tarinworth astounded
her.

Rafe had saved her only to lose his own
life.

Sitting beside his hospital bed, Tarin
couldn’t take her eyes from him. He lay on his stomach facing her,
his tanned skin pasty white, his bare torso wrapped to protect the
sutured wounds on his back. Though he still had breath in his body,
the doctor warned them it was only a matter of time before he
passed.

Tears flooded Tarin’s eyes
once again.
No.
She refused to believe it. Rafe would not leave her like this.
And she trusted him more than anyone.

She sifted her fingers through his
hair. Peculiar how reality became clearer when tragedy struck. With
Rafe’s fatal condition came the destruction of her pride. She knew
in her heart he had gone into the agreement with her father to save
his family, not for position and excessive financial gain. He had
professed his love for her and had supported her quest to become a
physician from the beginning.

She had found the man her mother told
her to seek.

And today, she could tell him
goodbye.

Rafe had suffered more than the worst
of men deserved yet, he hadn’t died. Not thus far.

He still had fight left
within.

However, if anyone deserved eternal
happiness it was Rafe. It would be selfish to want anything less
for him.

“Tarin, Isabel needs to walk,” Kit
whispered, as she came up to rub Tarin’s back. “I am going to take
her for a stroll around the hospital. Rosa is still outside waiting
for Patrick and Beau to return from the police station.” She
squatted down to stare into Tarin’s eyes. “You will be well until
your father returns with Father Finnegan?”

Tarin nodded as she squeezed Kit’s
hand. Father Finnegan was supposed to marry them days
ago.

In moments, he would arrive to give
Rafe last rites.

“Thank you for taking care of Isabel.
She is so upset.”

Kit nodded, her gaze searching Tarin’s
face. “You are exhausted, Tarin. You need to rest.”

“I do not want to miss a moment with
him.” She looked back at Rafe’s still form. “I can sleep
later.”

“He is a fighter,” Kit said, as she
squeezed her hand again. “You must believe.”

Tarin nodded as she sat up in her
chair. “You are right. He is the strongest person I
know.”

Nodding, Kit rose to her feet and
escorted Isabel out the door. Alone with Rafe, Tarin laid her cheek
against his, her tears falling onto his chilled face.

“I do not need school, a career, or
riches, Rafe. All I need is you.” She placed a butterfly kiss on
his temple. “Stay, Rafe, please. I love you.”

 

######

 

He stood beside Rafe’s
hospital bed, bathed in rays of dazzling white. Rafe started, not
out of fear
of
him
- he radiated pure joy - but shock that He was there at
all.

His beating, blood-red heart hovered
above His chest rather than within it, expanding a little with each
heavy thud. It emanated a love so strong, so powerful, it filled
Rafe’s weak body to near bursting.

Rafe had always imagined
someone would come for him upon his death. But after what he had
done over the last ten years, he never expected
He
would be here.

‘Are you sure you have the right
person?’ Rafe asked Him in his mind.

His answering smile was warm as He
stretched His hand towards Rafe, offering a blissful, painless
freedom his tormented body craved. Rafe could feel the blessed
relief, the peaceful ecstasy draw him. It would be so easy to give
in, to take His hand and go. The pain, the scars would be no more.
He would be perfect…

Then she appeared.

Floating beside Him, she was more flame
than dense, her wavy, copper hair shining like the sun. Her
luminous beauty blinded him, her blue eyes glowing like lit
sapphires. She looked so much like Tarin Rafe wondered if she was a
trick of his eyes.

Shaking her head, she smiled before
holding her hand in front of her mouth and blowing in his
face.

The scent of roses showered over him
like a million raindrops, filling his nose with the sweet aroma of
a garden. He recalled the scent the night Beau and Rosa rescued him
from the Comanches.

Realization made him smile. “You have
been with me all along, haven‘t you?” he said without words.
“You’re Tarin’s mother.”

Nodding, she smiled lovingly at Tarin
who still sat beside his body in the hospital room. When her mother
turned back to Rafe, her smile had vanished.

He
extended His hand again to Rafe, His smile warm. Rafe reached
for Him, the desire to take His hand obliterating all thought.
Tarin’s mother floated between them, a frown marring her lustrous
face.

“Tarin needs you,” she told him without
moving her lips.

Rafe looked back at Him. His hand
promised Rafe absolute ecstasy, no pain, no scars, no
worries.

He looked back at her.

Life on earth promised
Tarin. And
He
knew
how much Rafe loved her.

“I can’t put her through this,” Rafe
told Him. “I will gladly endure any suffering if you will allow me
to stay.”

Tarin’s mother gave a brilliant smile
before slowly fading into the clouds. He remained, His hand still
extended. Rafe did not move, unsure whether He intended to take him
after all.

Gliding closer, He laid his palm
against Rafe’s chest. Blinding rays shot from his chest in a swirl
of color. Rafe gasped at the glimpse of eternal rapture His touch
revealed. Rafe’s soul yearned to stay, pulling towards Him of its
own volition.

Rafe could feel the healing power seep
through him as He pushed once, sending Rafe falling back to the
bed.

 

“Rafe!” Tarin cried, frantically
shaking his shoulder.

The sound of Rafe’s sudden gasp caused
her heart to stop. She had heard stories of the dead’s final
breath. Many had the death rattle, others one last gasp of
breath.

No, it cannot be…

“Please,” Tarin said, as she squeezed
his hand, urging him to give her some sign of life.
“Stay.”

Suddenly, he rolled to his side with a
deep groan, pulling her with him. Tarin ended up half lying on the
bed, her face inches from his. She could not believe her
eyes.

“I have been dying to get you in bed
for months.” His dark brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “Now that
I have you, I can’t do anything with you.”

Relief washed over Tarin like a tidal
wave, making her lightheaded. Pulling her feet onto the bed, she
stretched out beside him and kissed him all over his face. “The
doctor said you were going to die!”

A peace she had never seen there before
shown in the depths of his dark eyes. He did not try to cover his
scars

or flinch when she touched his mangled
skin. The peace seemed odd in a man that sat near death moments ago
yet, he appeared relaxed, content, as if waking from a
nap.

“All the more reason to get
you through medical school,
mi
dulce
.” He kissed her palm before cradling
it between them. “We have too many fools in practice and are now
one physician short.” Kissing her forehead, he asked, “Are you
well? What did they do to you?”

Looking away, Tarin shook her head. “I
am well. Dr. Kent tied me down and forced opium down my throat
while his wife and daughter looked on.” She looked up into eyes
full of life - and anger. “Do not fret. I am fine. I feel for the
child, though. There is no telling what she has seen in her short
life. Patrick is making arrangements for her grandparents to sail
from Atlanta to collect her.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” He
squeezed her hand again.

“No, Rafe,” she replied, pulling the
blanket up over his shoulder, “I did not allow you to be there for
me.” Swallowing hard, she added, “I want you here for me now.
Everyday. I want to be your wife, Rafe. If you will still have
me.”

The grin that lit his face made her
heart race.

“Rafe?” Stopping just inside the door,
Patrick rushed around the bed with Rosa in tow, Beau quick on their
heels. Her father and Father Finnegan followed them
inside.

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